What Matters In The End Poem by Patti Masterman

Oh why do I feel so alone in this world?
Even genies have a master
Who caresses their magic lamp sometimes;
And gods have their universes whirled

Sculptors have their plaster
Even artists have their muse
Could I form myself into any venue-
Play well at being my own ruse?

I couldn't die any faster
Even for me, there must be some use?
Otherwise I'm only taking up space
Killing time, making up an excuse

I only want to clothe myself with grace
Not feel I'm strung out by the past;
When sins and omissions come home to roost
Just let me have that look of peace on my face.